Baby
by e.b. avery
Summary: A short, one part story about how our stories live on after we are gone. Molly finds herself drawn to a beat up impala that she feels she must buy. After restoring it to it's former glory she meets a man who has a story to tell her about a car very similar to her own. Is it chance that they met or is there more to this story than Molly can see?


I bought it not even knowing where it had been- not really caring. I just knew it needed to come home with me.

"An old car fan, miss?" The owner asked me, scratching the back of his head and probably wishing to be out of the July heat.

I shook my head and smiled. I didn't know shit about cars in general, let alone classics that were rusting away in Michigan junkyards. I couldn't tell you why I stopped there- it just sort of happened. I was driving along the outskirts of town when the sun must have shone right off the hood of that car. A bright glimmer caught me in the eyes and I had to slow down to avoid going into the ditch. I stepped out of my car to see what made the light and found myself peeking over the high fence at a worn down, busted up, and left over black car. The whole thing was caked in dust and mud, the front windshield was missing, the tires were shot, and the entire car needed a new paint job. God only knew if the engine worked.

I knew I needed to see that car. I needed to touch it, look closer.

I patted the hood and asked the owner how much.

His face scrunched up, "Well, I never thought I would sell 'er to be honest with you! I mean, she isn't much to look at and the model and make aren't all that popular as far as collectors go. Honestly, I was going to scrap it. You sure you want it?"

I grinned like an idiot, "Yes."

He looked down at the car once more and back up at me, "Okay, well, how does $500 sound?"

$500 and a towing fee later, that car was mine.

* * *

"You're insane."

"It's not insanity, it's love!" I retorted, leaning against the car with one foot on it.

Billy, my mechanic and friend, threw his rag on the hood and looked over at me with a slightly worried twist to his face, "Do you understand how much it is going to cost to restore this? A new paint job alone is killer, but the entire engine, exhaust, and brakes need fixin' and I haven't even looked at the rest yet! The trunk is wacked -I've never seen one like it before. Who knows what they were doing back here. Plus look," He opened the car door and pointed to two initials carved into the car- D.W. and S.W., " and there is some stupid army man toy shoved into the ashtray AND legos in the vents."

"No, the initials and army dude stay. Even the legos"

Billy gave me an exhausted laugh, "And why is that, Molly?"

I shrugged, lifted myself off of the car and ran my fingers over the initials, "Because they meant something to someone at one time, and that means something to me now."

"I repeat what I said earlier- insane." Billy threw his rag at me, "But, if it's what you want I'll do it for you and it will look amazing."

And it did. Weeks later that beauty came rolling out of his garage and I could hardly contain my excitement. The paint shone, as did all of that new chrome. She looked proud of herself again. And when I turned her over for the first time and heard the roar of her engine, it was all I could do to not to hug the steering wheel.

"Billy, you are a wizard!" I beamed as I turned on the radio. The tuner was stuck on the local classic rock station, and the sound of bluesy guitars and raspy voices seemed to fit this car so well that I never bothered fixing it.

I found out through Billy what the make and model where- A 1967 Chevy Impala. Nothing fancy or special, just one of thousands of the same kind of car that rolled out that year. I looked into the history of the car later on and noticed it only ever had three owners, and the last two shared the same last name: Winchester. I couldn't tell you why, but I felt like I was a part of something in this car. There was a history to it- a story- that kept my hands planted on that steering wheel any chance I could.

* * *

"Excuse me,"

The sound of a man's voice broke my concentration, I put down my book and looked up at the man who had spoken to me. He looked middle aged - maybe early forties- with black hair that was disheveled and blue eyes. The most memorable thing about him was his trench coat. I don't know why but that stuck with me, you don't often see them.

I smiled and looked back at him, "Yes?"

"I don't mean to bother you, but is that your car out there?" His voice was deep, gravely. He pointed to my Impala.

I put down my book and smiled, "It is! I saved it from a junkyard and got it redone, well, most of it."

The man looked a little sad as his head turned once again to view the car, "My...friends had a car just like it."

And as with the Impala, I know there was more to this story. Something about him made me curious, I wanted to know more.

"Do you want to sit down? Maybe have a coffee? I would love to hear about your friends. I don't know much about my car, it was kind of an impulse buy, but I would love to learn more about it."

He looked at the seat before he sat, as if he was unsure what he should do. Thankfully, he decided to sit down. I asked the waitress to bring another cup over for him and poured coffee for him. He held the cup in his hands, not doing much else with it.

"So, your friends had a similar car?" I nudged.

"Yes. They did. They drove everywhere with it- around most of North America actually."

"Where they married?"

"Oh no, they were brothers. I probably should have mentioned that before. Sam and Dean." His eyes clouded over for a moment, getting lost in a memory.

I thought back to the initials in the car- the 'S' and 'D' carved into the metal- but shook my head. They were pretty common names.

"What did your friends do that kept them traveling so much?"

The man looked at me and a little smile crossed his lips, "They helped people. People who were hurt or scared, those that were lost. They lived their entire lives in that car, just moving from place to place and helping any person they could. It was like their calling, doing that."

"Sam and Dean seem like they were good people."

The man nodded.

"I'm Molly, by the way. I never got your name."

"I'm Cas." He stuck out his hand to shake mine.

"It's a good thing you did, saving that car." He said, his voice almost monotone.

"You think so? Everyone thought I was crazy. I... I don't even know why I bought it, to be honest. The sun must have glared off of the roof or something at the same time I was driving past it. I couldn't see and ended up stopping the car in front of the junkyard. I saw it and just knew. I didn't even know what kind of car it was, but I fell in love and needed it."

"I don't think it's insane. Sometimes we fall in love with something or someone and there is no reason behind it, but it happens. Maybe these things happen to us so we can learn, or feel, or do something we would never have been able to do before."

"I like that," I smiled, "I like that a lot. It's kind of like magic."

"Love is a kind of magic, don't you think?" Cas asked me, cocking his head slightly.

"I don't have the best track record with 'love', but yeah, I think so."

Cas chuckled as he swirled the cup around by the handle, "Most of us don't have luck in that sector but when we get that break - that one moment of love that is true- it's worth it."

"And here I thought we were talking about cars," I said, putting my head in my hand and looking at the man across from me. There was something there- right below the surface- that was starting to edge out. It was like he was wearing a mask, but the light of who he was couldn't be contained by it. I wanted to ask him about his friends, about the stories I knew were there but I couldn't see, but it didn't seem appropriate so I held back.

"They're gone." It was as if he had read my mind, the questions I had not asked. The way he said the words were as if he wasn't fully sure what they meant or that they somehow must be wrong.

I found myself wanting to cry for the man sitting across from me. It was out of my character, but I reached my hand over to his open one, took it and gave it a little squeeze, "I'm so sorry, Cas. Truly sorry to hear that."

His hand squeezed mine back and for a moment we both just sat there in silence. Neither of us moved our hands or said a word.

"Cas, would you like to take a picture with my car? I can take it with my phone and send it to yours"

That seemed to pique his interest, " I would like that very much, thank you."

I paid my bill and motioned my new friend to the front of the diner where I was parked. He touched the car gingerly, running a hand across the length. Once again, he was lost in his own inner world, a place full of memories, joys, sorrows, and love. I leaned against the diner and just watched, allowing him to have this time. I don't know why, but it didn't feel like my car anymore. It suddenly felt like I was borrowing it, keeping it safe for the real owner. Maybe that feeling should have bothered me but it didn't. It felt right.

"You kept the inside the same." Cas said, more of a statement than a question.

"I did," I pushed myself away from the diner and pointed to the front of the car, " There is even a-"

"Green army man in the ashtray." He finished my sentence for me, "That's perfect."

I wasn't sure how he knew that, but I let it slide. I pulled out my phone and waved it slightly, "Wanna take that picture now?"

"Would you like to take it with me?"

"Are you sure?" I asked, feeling like I was intruding on something I didn't really understand.

He nodded, "It will be perfect that way."

I smiled and asked a woman walking down the street if she would take the picture for us. After showing her how, I walked up to Cas, linked his arm in mine, and we both smiled while leaning up against the door of the Impala. After the picture was taken, I got his number and sent the picture his way.

"Thank you, Molly. This means more than you can know."

I looked into the car at the initials and back out at him, "Your friends, their last name Winchester?"

His head shot up and he looked puzzled, "How did you…"

I pointed to the backseat of the car, "Their initials are still there too, not going anywhere."

The truth is, I don't know how I knew. I don't know how a man walking off the street found me in a lousy diner, in a nowhere town in Michigan and I just happened to have the same car as the two men he obviously cared the most for. I don't know how I found the car, or why I bought it, or why I kept the interior the same. And I sure as hell don't know how the tuning dial on the radio is always stuck on the classic rock station. I don't know how any of this fits or works. It just does. Like magic.

Cas put his hand back on the roof, "I think you're the perfect person for this car now."

"I don't think it's actually mine. I think I'm just watching her until your friends come back for it."

"They would like that, a lot." He never moved his hand from the car.

"Well, you've got my number if they ever want it back. Or, you can just call me and say hello, that would be nice too." I hoped he would.

Cas nodded as he took his hand off the hood and put it in the pocket of his trench coat, "I should let you go."

I sighed and nodded back, trying not to be amazed by what had happened today, "I'm glad I met you, Cas."

I'm not sure he was expecting it, but I wrapped him in a hug. His body was tight for a split second but soon his arms were around me too. As I let go I could see tears in his eyes and felt my own threatening to appear. I walked around to the driver's side and opened the door before a thought slide into my brain.

"Hey Cas, what did Sam and Dean call her? I haven't got a name yet."

A smile- the largest I had seen today- spread across his face as he said one simple word, "Baby."

It was perfect.

"I truly hope to see you again," I said as I got into the car and shut the door. I turned on Baby and listened to her purr as the classic rock station kicked in. Through my rear view mirror, I could see Cas smiling at the music that was playing and I knew it was stuck there for a reason. I looked down to move my bag and when I looked up again Cas was gone. It was like he disappeared from the sidewalk.

* * *

I have the picture that was taken that day in the car, right on the sun visor. Every time I look at it I smile, knowing that there is so much magic out there in the world and I was lucky enough to touch just a little of it. It's been a few months and I haven't heard back from Cas, although I thought I saw him a few times out of the corner of my eye, but I have a feeling I will see him again soon.

As for Sam and Dean? Well, their Baby is still here just waiting for them to come home when they are ready, and I've always got a pot of coffee and pie waiting for them when they do.


End file.
